


With a Look

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BAMF John Watson, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Inspired by Art, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 09:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7430613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes John gets a look. And Sherlock knows things are about to get interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With a Look

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Willietheplaidjacket's amazing art](http://willietheplaidjacket.tumblr.com/post/147055378812/first-colour-palette-challenge-piece-of-2016)

Sherlock observed many things about John Watson. There were many things for him to admire. Many things he didn’t understand. One of those things was a certain look. He didn’t have it all the time. It was somewhere between the look he had when he was enraged and the look he had when Sherlock was on his knees, all but begging for his cock.

John had that look now, anger tempered with hunger. They were in the middle of a case, a very bad woman having just tried, rather unsuccessfully, to take his head off. Literally. The woman was unconscious between them. Her companion, however had a gun, eyes flickering between the two of them, clearly nervous and uncertain.

On the other hand, John was, as ever, perfectly steady. He watched the man, waiting patiently as a sniper for an opportunity.

There. John actually spotted it half a moment before Sherlock did, ever the soldier. The man shifted his weight, looking over as Sherlock moved just enough to distract him. John moved with surprising quickness, disarming the man in one swift moment and driving him to his knees just as there was the sound of Scotland Yard arriving on the scene.

Lestrade walked in, took in the scene, sighed and moved to arrest the man John was standing over. Sherlock rattled of deductions, explaining the case as he took John’s arm and led him out.

“I need to see you in the morning!” Lestrade called after him.

Sherlock ignored him.

“We’ll be there,” John answered, even as Sherlock was all but stuffing him into a cab.

The ride was tense. John’s blood was still up and while Sherlock fidgeted a bit, John was still, peering out at the passing streets. Sherlock watched the reflection of his gaze in the glass, memorising, comparing it to the other gazes he kept locked away.

Finally, the cab arrived at Baker Street. Sherlock paid the cabbie and hurried up the stairs after John.

Only after the door was closed did the stillness explode into action.

John fisted the front of Sherlock’s shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. Moaning, Sherlock dropped to his knees, hands going to John’s trousers. There was no discussion, no need for words. They worked, as always, like two cogs in a perfect machine, made for one another.

Sherlock got John’s cock free and swallowed him down, moaning at the feeling of John’s hands in his hair.

Groaning, John let him do what he wished. Sherlock could feel his heated gaze, but kept his eyes closed as he focused on his task, savoring the taste of John, the smell of him, the way his jeans felt under Sherlock’s hands. Beneath the jeans, Sherlock felt the strong muscles of John’s thighs twitching as he moved with him.

A tug to Sherlock’s hair pulled him off and back to his feet. John kissed him again, licking the taste from his mouth as he tugged them down the hallway towards the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way.

By the time Sherlock landed on his back on the bed, he was naked, watching John’s predatory smile as he climbed over him. Before Sherlock could deduce John’s plan, John had ducked his head, pushing up Sherlock’s thighs, tongue dragging against his rim.

Sherlock cried out, hands going to the headboard. John rarely did this, but when he did… All Sherlock could do was moan, tossing his head as John’s tongue invaded him in the most pleasurable way.

Finally, John pulled away, leaving Sherlock panting. John got up and went to the en suite to rinse out his mouth. Always a soldier and always a doctor. Sherlock lolled his head to the side to watch him at the sink, again admiring the strength hidden beneath jumpers and pleasantries.

When John came back, some of the anger had dissipated, but his hunger had only grown. He gave his thick cock a stroke as he paused to observe Sherlock lying in their bed. Sherlock had arranged himself in a delightful manner, legs spread wide for him, hands still on the headboard. He knew what his John liked.

Licking his lips, John fetched the lube and climbed back into bed, giving Sherlock a minty kiss as he coated his fingers. Nipping Sherlock’s lip to distract him, he pressed two fingers inside, drawing out another moan.

Sherlock let go of the headboard to roam his hands over John’s body, to touch every inch of skin he could reach. He raised goosebumps with his gentle touch, making John groan and thrust against the air.

John finally deemed him ready enough and withdrew his fingers. Sherlock chased his kiss as he lined up and sank into him.

Now it was Sherlock’s turn to run fingers through John’s hair. He moaned as John filled him, mouthing against Sherlock’s shoulder. John started thrusting in earnest, raising his head to watch Sherlock’s face.

Sherlock kept his gaze, a secret smile on his parted lips. He reached down to stroke his own cock, eyes drifting shut at the pleasure of it. John kissed him, slowing his thrusts to savor the moment and the feel of him.

Wrapping his long legs around John, Sherlock encouraged him to pick up the pace again with a squeeze. He felt John’s smile and opened his eyes for just a moment before they slammed shut again as his orgasm overwhelmed him. 

John kept going a moment longer, ducking his head, breath hot against Sherlock’s shoulder, and then he came too. He groaned softly as he worked himself through it, then pulled out and flopped down next to Sherlock.

Sherlock rolled to the face him. Reaching out, John ran fingers through Sherlock’s sweat-damp hair as they kissed. “Can we have a case where our lives aren’t threatened?” John asked between soft kisses.

“But what would be the fun in that?” asked Sherlock, running his thumb over the scar on John’s shoulder.

“What indeed,” John laughed, giving him one more kiss before pulling him into his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to themadkatter13 for the quick beta and jamistoryteller for the word wars
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [merindab.tumblr.com](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
